I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson

This show is actually crazy. Sketch comedy at its very best even though there is no recognizable running theme throughout all the episodes. Its completely random and that is what makes this show very funny. Vanessa Bayer and Will Forte absolutely nail their sketches.

I was expecting some weird stuff but this was surprisingly funny. Still weird but refreshing.

Literally one of my favorite shows ever. So quotable. I understand its not for everyone, but when it's "for you" it hits so hard and you won't be able to forget about it. It will consume you. I find myself quoting it constantly in my life.

Its definitely absurd, quirky, and even silly at times. But its the best sketch show I've seen. Even the more forgettable skits have a few quotes that are amazing and will stick with you.

If you consume edibles, or somethind edible adjacent, this is the show to watch while under that influence. You will lose your mind and maybe lose the ability to breathe because youre laughing so hard.

I'd been a massive fan of Detroiters so was deeply into the idea of Tim Robinson getting let loose on his own sketch show. What you get here is an ever-intensifying doubling down on a very specific type of humour. Specifically, his. Dotted with some brilliant guest appearances and never quite ending where you expect it to - this is a show that delights in wrong-footing you. Tripping you up, freaking you out. The best sketches revolve around the evergreen "a person's full refusal to face up to the reality of what they've done" schtick and it works beautifully. I see memes of this all over the shop and I've even heard of folk going back to seek out Detroiters which is glorious - I'm glad it's finally brought him a big audience and proof, if proof is needed, that doubling down on your own humour (which ironically is based itself on doubling down) is double down... wait what am I saying. I don't even know. Stop looking at me.

I stumbled upon I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson by accident, and now I'm completely hooked. As someone from Gen X, I know I'm not the target audience, but it resonates with me deeply. The show isn't just absurd sketch comedy-it's an exaggerated reflection of real-life insecurities, social anxieties, and silent, ridiculous struggles.

At its core, the show thrives on insecurity. Every sketch features a character who refuses to admit they're wrong, desperately trying to maintain their dignity while spiraling into chaos. The humor doesn't just come from their awkwardness-their unrelenting commitment to proving they're in control, even when it's clear they aren't. That kind of desperation? I recognize it. I feel it.

Each season builds on this theme, with characters who react to embarrassment in extreme ways-destroying a door to avoid admitting they pulled instead of pushing or insisting a gift was well-received despite mounting evidence. The more they fight reality, the more absurd the situation becomes. And yet, in that absurdity, there's truth. The sketches expose the everyday fears of failure, rejection, and social isolation.

But You Should Leave isn't just about chaos. As the seasons progress, something deeper emerges-what some call "sentimental absurdism." Beneath the ridiculous setups, there's often a moment of unexpected validation. A character struggling for acceptance might finally hear the words they need: You're good. You belong. In these moments, the show moves beyond mocking human insecurity and instead offers a kind of emotional catharsis.

One of the most fascinating themes is how the show plays with existential dread. Mortality, failure, and the sheer exhaustion of modern life weave through the sketches-sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly. There are multiple sketches about skeletons, death, and the anxiety of existence. One character even admits that, for a brief moment, he felt relieved at the thought of being eaten-because at least it meant he wouldn't have to go to work the next day. It's dark, but it's honest.

Ultimately, I Think You Should Leave is therapy disguised as comedy. It exaggerates the thoughts we're too afraid to say out loud and allows us to laugh at them instead of being consumed by them. It reassures us in its bizarre, chaotic way: Yes, life is awkward and messy, but you're not alone in feeling that way. And sometimes, that's precisely the kind of comfort we need.